


Find Ourselves

by spiritofneglect



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, RIP, Some smutty, adding everything too small to be it's own, multifandom - Freeform, one shots, some longer, some not, some short
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-28 23:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8467840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritofneglect/pseuds/spiritofneglect
Summary: Multifandom oneshots! just a collection of one shots that are too short to really be posted by themselves, or ones I don't think will get much love by themselves. Unpopular characters and popular characters all in one.open for requests, just leave them in the comments ;P





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one is from a prompt:  
> Eye contact 
> 
> I did Romano cause I love his olive green eyes, and the chocolate brown.  
> Plus he doesn't get much love.

The cheery smiles of the staff is rolling over the feel of the cafe, the comfort and cosy feeling blankets me and I feel warm. A good sort of warm, the peaceful kind when you put cold hands infant of a fire you’ve nursed to blazing. My eyes are trained on the board, too busy reading the neat chalk beverage titles to notice the chill that sneaks through the opening of the cafe door. The lady in front of me shuffles forward, her eyes snapping from the menu on the boards above to the service man who keeps his smile and twinkling eyes patient.  
She starts talking, but I’m so far gone in the homey, safe feeling of the cafe that the words seem far, far away. Im reading the board still, and I reach the end of everything on offer. I feel a shift in the air around me, and I look away from the neat, cursive slope of words, the lady has ordered and moved on. I walk up to the service man, confident in what I want, I’m already in the process of pulling out my card as I start my order.  
The man recognises me, smiled slightly brighter.  
“Good morning, cold out isn’t it?”  
“Always bella, this early is bound to bring the cold sweeping in.” His fingers are already moving with practiced ease over the keyboard, every morning I order the same after all.  
“I’ll be having a hot chocolate please, warm me up a little.”  
He’s already finished putting in the order before my voice fades, and he nods as I go to speak again. “with marshmallows, done bella~ the new barista will whip it up even better than before!”  
“New barista?” I whisper lightly, not realising the words had left my lips as I step out of line and out of the way as the friendly service man -feliciano, according to his badge- passes this new barista the slip of paper with my order, and turns to the next customer.  
My eyes follow the exchange of hands, and instantly there is something that draws my eyes to the owner of the slightly olive tanned hand’s owner. His finger tips are soft, but there are callouses in the creases where his fingers bend, the tan is smooth as my eyes flow up his arm. Then I’m met with the most striking green eyes I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. The calm ferocity, molten gold around his pupils that blends effortlessly with the sharp emerald green of his irises is both heart stopping and heart melting. A shiver runs down my spine and I feel a shock as his gaze bores into mine, eyes locked together as he moves naturally, the beverage not even requiring he look at the machine, as though he knows it better than he knows his own hands.  
He finally looks away as he reaches for a lid for the take away cup, fixing it on easily and placing two different coloured marshmallows on top of the styrofoam.  
I step forward and he lifts the medium cup up, he’s suddenly looking into my eyes again, and then he’s taking the cup back. I pause, confused as I tear my eyes away from his to watch his smooth hands pull a marker free from his apron pocket, scribbles something onto the cup, and then he offers it again.  
“Have a good morning, bella.”  
His accent is rich, Italian ringing to every syllable, and even as I take the cup my heart is still trembling from both his gaze and from the polished articulation.  
The cup is in my hands now, and I’m stepping back. But that burning, fiery green has me locked in place and breathe swept away.  
As I’m leaving, glancing back to catch glimpses of the most extraordinary eyes I’ve witnessed, I catch him looking up to me. Then I’m out the doors and walking away, finding myself hoping, despite my logic insisting it’s ridiculousness, that he takes on being the barista full time. I look down to the cup, and there, written on the side, in the same decorative writing in the cafe, says: _nice to meet you, I’m Lovino._


End file.
